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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26532910">Victims</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Picture_Yourself/pseuds/Picture_Yourself'>Picture_Yourself</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Childhood, Gen, Scarecrow - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:55:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>348</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26532910</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Picture_Yourself/pseuds/Picture_Yourself</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan Crane's memories/dreams/fantasies of his childhood and the origins of his costume.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Victims</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So far this is just a one-shot, maybe this will turn out bigger than it is later on. I've got lots of ideas for other Batman characters as well, so if you like the content please give some encouragement, because this is my first post here. :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He remembered sitting in the field in his shadow. A skinny six year old clutching at the base of scarecrow's dark shredded cloak and looking up in awe upon his ugly face of straw and torn sacks. His mouth a line of irregular stiches his eyes black holes in the ancient fabric and his hair a mess of broken straw adorned with a pointed hat just as rotten and covered in bird dropping as the rest of his battered figure.</p><p>He stood there mighty and tall, powerful despite his broken appearance surrounded by nothing but acres of golden wheat swaying gently in the wind. A lonely guardian tasked with the impossible mission of protecting those endless expanses of gold. The last line of defence against the onslaught of those winged demons coming to ravage the fields and scrape them bare until nothing but dry and lifeless land remained. Scrape them to the bone.</p><p>The birds came in swarms at him picking at him in his unmoving helplessness. They pecked at the straw, tore at his clothes and claw at his face. They continued their assault until the battered cloak fell off of his frame and the pointed hat dropped to the ground torn to shreads. In time even the burtlap sack gave out and the straw spilled to the ground as if it had never served as a body to the protector of the fields. In the end there was nothing left but a large wooden cross among the grain. </p><p>The child stood there now and stared with grief in his eyes at the battered remnants of the scarecrow. He moved closer to pick up the cloak much to heavy for his small hands to lift and looked up now at the bare wood the birds had been unable to destroy. </p><p>"I will rebuild you" he said quietly. I will rebuild you so you will protect us next time the birds come to hurt us. You will protect us because you are strong enough. </p><p>Because you can take the pain that I cannot bear.</p><p>Because you are fearless.</p>
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